


A dog on a divine mission

by Drifting_clouds



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Cat Mika, Dog Mike, M/M, silly story ahead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drifting_clouds/pseuds/Drifting_clouds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mika has a dog named Michael, but it's not really his fault. Guess what, this is a silly (and somewhat fluffy) fic...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of things that go bump in the night

**Author's Note:**

> I reposted this story, but I honestly cannot remember if the version I found on my hard drive was beated, so I apologize for random mistakes, creative grammar and totally unreliable use of commas.

_“Again I must remind you that_  
 _a dog’s a dog – A CAT’S A CAT”_  
 _T.S. Eliot – Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats_

_“He got up quickly and he saw a huge dog emerging from the barn._  
 _For one absurd moment he wondered if it really was a dog,_  
 _or maybe some strange and ugly species of pony.”_  
 _Stephen King – Cujo_

*** 

At times, all the surveillance in the world won’t prevent a stubborn soul from breaking into a guarded place. Skimming along the fence, the dark shadow crept past the sleepy guards at the entrance of the paddock as it stealthily made its way toward the parked trailers. In the middle of the night the place was virtually deserted, and only the faraway voices of a group of mechanics still working on a car broke the perfect silence.

Mika Häkkinen sat by the small table, munching cookies and checking the latest telemetry readouts. He’d been tossing and turning in bed for half an hour, before he finally gave up his battle and decided to make a cup of chamomile tea. Suddenly, the loud noise of tumbling objects caught his attention. Dropping the stack of reports on a chair, the driver tried to peer outside, but he couldn’t see much more than an empty street. Carefully opening the door, the Finn stepped outside, shivering as the cold wind whipped his face like a slap. One of the circuit’s employees was striding toward him, carrying a flashlight. They exchanged a puzzled look and the man shrugged. Muttering a curse about the crazy British climate, Mika hastened to scurry back inside. He took a step toward the bed and froze.

“Jumala!” he cried out, scratching his chin in disbelief.

From under the table, a big, funny looking dog with mud-caked fur was staring at him. The animal wagged his tail and barked a friendly greeting.

“What are you doing here?” Mika inquired. 

Woof!

“I don’t know how you managed to sneak into my trailer, but you definitely look hungry…” the driver stated as he studied the trail of crumbs scattered around the overturned (and now empty) bowl of cookies. 

Feeling particularly generous, Mika opened the fridge and grabbed a steak. Dropping it on a dish, he retrieved a knife to hack it into pieces, but the effort wasn’t needed as the dog helped himself, snatching the piece of meat with his teeth. It didn’t take more than five seconds before the loot was noisily gulped down.

“Satisfied?”

The dog barked his agreement.

“Good. You can leave then, yes?” Mika inquired as he tentatively patted the dog’s head.

The animal took a first step towards the door, then he changed his mind and suddenly veered to the right, bouncing on the bed. With a content sigh, he slumped on the soft comforter… almost as if he expected someone to tuck him in.

“Ei, no way you’re not going to sleep there…” Mika grumbled and took a threatening step forward.

The dog’s head jerked up and the animal growled.

“Okay, yes you are.” The driver raised both hands in a placating gesture. “At least leave some room for me, you ungrateful reindeer-sized beast!”

The quick capitulation seemed to please the animal and he rolled on one side with a canine grin, leaving the stunned Finn a portion of the bed.

***************

Morning came way too soon and Mika awoke with the feeling of something oppressive crushing his chest. Opening his blue-grey eyes just a crack, the driver quickly assessed the situation. The dog lay sprawled in the middle of the bed, his forelegs and head comfortably resting on the Finn’s torso. As soon as he noticed that his new owner was looking at him, the animal lifted his head and, without a warning, he started to lick Mika’s cheek. The man groaned and tried to fend the attack off, but the dog only increased his efforts to reach his face. 

"Ei! Stop that!" Mika eventually managed to push the dog off the bed and buried his head beneath the pillow. The animal didn’t give up that easily and jumped right back on, simply pushing his muzzle underneath the pillow and resuming the attack. 

“All right! All right! I’m up!” the Finn exclaimed with an angry sigh. “And you, my friend, you could really use a bath…”

The animal shook his head.

“Yeah, well… I’ll take a shower,” Mika announced. “Just behave.”

When he emerged from the bathroom, the dog was sitting in front of the fridge waiting for breakfast.

“You don’t plan on leaving anytime soon, uh?” Mika inquired idly, as he towelled his blond hair. He knew that the question was ludicrous and that he probably shouldn’t argue with a dog as if he expected some kind of answer, but then again, the animal shook his head and shot him a meaningful look. 

“Yeah, I figured as much.”

The driver opened the fridge and tossed the animal another piece of meat.

“There goes the other half of my lunch…”

***************

*Chapter Two: The naming of dogs… and other typical Finnish customs. *

Mika was very late. He had a briefing scheduled at 9 a.m. and it was now 9:15 and he was still slipping his shoes on. After the shower, he had taken a walk outside, running into one of the circuit’s employees patrolling the almost empty paddock. Without really thinking, he’d asked him where he could buy a dog collar and a leash and the man had volunteered to bring him the requested items. That first problem solved, Mika had retreated to the trailer, determined to give the stinking fleabag a good bath. 

And that was the moment real troubles had started. First of all, the dog hadn’t been particularly eager to go along with Mika’s plan… actually, he’d tried everything in his power to wriggle out of the driver’s grasp, forcing a very frustrated Finn to lift him up bodily in order to carry him under the spray of the shower. That display of brute force hadn’t been enough to placate the animal’s wild struggle as the dog simply intensified his efforts to break free with the result that, within minutes, the cramped bathroom was reduced to a swampy battlefield. 

In the growing confusion, Mika almost didn’t hear the gentle tap on the main door. When the sound repeated, the driver raised his head and turned. The short diversion sufficed for the dog to drag him directly under the shower. For a very long moment, Mika just sat under the spray as the hot water soaked his clothes, feeling like he’d been run over by a freight train. 

“Mr Häkkinen?” someone called.

The driver shook his head and stretched out an arm, closing the faucet. A creepy silence fell on the bathroom.

“I-I’m going to throttle you,” Mika whispered with finality as he tried to grasp the annoying pest by the tail. 

“Mr Häkkinen?” the voice repeated. “Is everything okay?”

“COMING!” the Finn roared and shooting the dog a look that promised a very slow and painful death, he left the bathroom.

Mika trudged toward the door, feeling like a Finnish version of Godzilla resurfacing from the depths of the ocean. Rivulets of water cascaded from his clothes, leaving a clear trail of his passage on the floor. 

“Are you all right?” the circuit’s employee shot him a puzzled look.

“Of course” Mika hissed as he brushed the dripping hair off his forehead. “I always take a shower with my clothes on… it’s a typical Finnish custom.”

The man nodded and handed him a worn-out collar and a leash that had belonged to one of the police dogs the FIA used to patrol the track. Mika politely thanked him and closed the door. Grabbing a clean towel, he went back to the bathroom and wrapped the dog in it, trying to dry the wet fur. Then he fastened the collar around the animal’s neck and dragged him towards the main room.

“Sit!” he barked. 

And keeping an eye on the now apparently contrite hound, the driver slipped out of his drenched clothes, dropping them in a basket near the bed. 

“There are plenty of drivers around here…” He said as he slipped out of his drenched clothes, dropping them in pile near the bed “you could have made friend with anyone of them… why me?” 

Ten minutes later, Mika was eventually dressed and ready to go. He wagged a finger at the slumbering dog, warning him to keep quiet and closed the door behind him. Not even five seconds later a loud thud reached the man’s ears. Heaving a frustrated sigh, he unlocked the door and peered inside. The dog was bouncing around the cramped space with a shoe in his mouth. The shoe was sent flying. It slammed into a vase. The vase wavered and crashed to the floor.

“What did I do to deserve this?” the man muttered and winced when the animal turned toward him and promptly hit a chair, hard enough to topple it. At this rate, his trailer would be razed to the ground long before he had time to come back from the first practice session.

“Do you want to come with me?” he inquired.

The dog galloped outside.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Half-dragged by the animal, Mika crossed the entire paddock and finally came in sight of the pit lane. Three FIA employees exchanged a puzzled look, then beckoned him in. The driver passed a few garages and finally reached his team’s pits. It was then that the animal decided that he wanted to make a big impression and managed to pull the leash from Mika’s hand. Free at last, the dog crossed the room, dodging a couple of badly shocked mechanics standing in his way. Unfortunately he didn’t notice the heavy tool-box placed right beside Coulthard’s car until he tripped over it and went flying, landing after a graceless somersault in a heap on the floor, bolts and nuts raining on him.

“What the hell!” Ron Dennis exclaimed when the sudden commotion startled the small bunch of people gathered around one of the monitors. Heads turned to look at him and the Finn felt suddenly very, very uneasy.

“Good God!” David Coulthard suddenly cried out as he pointed a finger at the ‘thing’ sitting beside his car. “And what is that?”

The moment of stunned silence lasted a few more seconds, then Ron Dennis critically eyed his driver and said: “Mika...”

“Don’t ask.”

“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“Neither did I. It sneaked into my trailer during the night.”

David crouched and snapped his fingers to draw the animal’s attention: “Here doggy… hey, what’s his name already?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t have enough time to come up with anything!”

“It’s quite a ‘peculiar’ beast…”

“Yeah, so I’ve noticed. And he’s also cheeky, obnoxious and very bossy.”

“And he’s red.” Coulthard stated with a grimace as he thoroughly examined the animal. “Aha! I’ve got the perfect name for him!”

“Go ahead, let’s hear it…” 

“MICHAEL!”

“Michael? As in…”

“Bossy, obnoxious, cheeky and red… okay, not Ferrari red, but red nonetheless.” 

Mika stared at the dog as he tried to imagine him sitting on Schumacher’s F2001… oh, if only he could convince one of the Cavallino’s mechanics to give him a Ferrari blanket! He found that thought alone quite amusing, enough to make him chuckle. 

“Gentlemen!” Ron Dennis clapped his hands to draw his team’s attention back to their task. “I’m sorry to dampen the mood, but we have a race to win…”

A chorus of good-natured protests and groans welcomed his words and the group moved back in front of the monitor. They were discussing the best strategy for the day when a bird lit down at the entrance of the garage, very close to the dozing Michael. 

The animal opened his eyes and, with a sudden leap, he pounced forward, charging the intruder. The bird took wing and the dog dashed off in pursuit, running along the pit lane with the speed of a cannonball. 

“Damn!” Mika cursed as he spun around. “Michael! No!”

But before he could leave the garage, the Finn heard a dull thud followed by a loud expletive in German.


	2. Micheal vs Michael

Michael Schumacher was not a happy man as he nervously freed himself from the harness and climbed out of the Ferrari cockpit, kicking at one of the front tyres. A little less than three turns and the engine had started to cough and splutter, forcing him back to the pits. Barking a string of orders to the engineers, the German tossed his helmet away and stormed out of the garage. He was pacing back and forth along the pit lane when something heavy slammed into him, sending him sprawling to the ground.

“Damn!” he swore, then he looked up. A friendly looking dog with floppy ears was standing on top of his chest, staring at him with what could only be considered as a dopey grin. “Get the hell off me!”

Absolutely unfazed, the animal wagged his tail and planted a slobbery kiss on the German’s cheek.

“Hey! Go away!” The driver tried to push the dog back. “Stop it!”

“Michael! Enough!” Mika scolded as he grabbed the animal by the collar, trying to yank him backward. But in spite of the effort, the dog refused to budge, efficiently pinning the Ferrari driver to the ground. “MICHAEL! You silly dog leave him alone!”

Eyes downcast, the animal stepped back and went to sit behind his human’s legs as the Finn helped the other man to his feet.

“I’m sorry.” Mika warily offered his apology.

“Is this… thing… yours?” Michael jerked his chin toward the animal, not bothering to hide his contempt.

The Finn tried to come up with something smart to say that wouldn’t get him into a fight with Kaiser Schumacher. Normally, he would have retreated towards the garage, but since half of the people working on the pit lane had swarmed around them, the plan was a lot harder to put into practice. A few drivers were standing there as well, exchanging smirks and obviously waiting for something to happen.

“It’s not a thing” he mumbled. “It’s a dog.”

“And did I hear you correctly… you called it Michael?”

Mika nodded trying to keep the dog as far away as possible from the other man. 

“Why? There’s no resemblance whatsoever. Maybe you should have named it Ron, or David. Michael is no name for a…beast like that.”

“If you say so.” The Finn shrugged. “Look, I’m sor…”

“May I ask you why you named your dog after me?” Michael cut the apology short, unwilling to let the subject drop.

“I most certainly didn’t do such a thing!”

“You most certainly did!”

“Well, excuse me, but I didn’t know that ‘Michael’ was a registered trademark… and anyway, it was David that suggested the name!”

“Gee, thanks a bunch, man.”

“But Mike,” Eddie Irvine intervened, trying to placate his ex-team-mate, “I’m sure than when he did so, he was thinking about some of your best qualities…” 

“Definitely.” Mika hastened to confirm. “Weren’t you, Dave?”

“Yes.” The Scot nodded “Speed, aggressiveness, determination…”

Michael obviously didn’t believe the pitiful explanation, but he wisely decided not to start a fight that would only gratify the nosy onlookers and fuel the media circus. 

“Look, if you want me to change the…” Again Mika tried to apologize.

“I don’t care.” And again Michael cut him short. 

Right then, one of the waiters working in the posh restaurant beside the grandstand passed by, carrying a tray with Bernie Ecclestone’s personal breakfast on it. The dog cocked his head and carefully sniffed the air: croissants with strawberry jam… Danish pastries… orange juice and coffee… a feral grin spread on the animal’s muzzle as he took a step forward.

“No” Mika hissed. “Don’t you dare!”

The dog turned and shot him an apologetic look, then he swiftly moved toward his unaware prey. The poor waiter shrieked when two paws and a muzzle popped out on the opposite side of the tray, but luckily enough, he kept a firm grip on it. Dog Michael delicately snatched one of the croissants and disappeared into the McLaren garage with his loot. 

“Did you see that?” David said with a chuckle. “Now, that was fast!”

“Yeah, well… speed, aggressiveness, damn… what was the third?” Irvine inquired as he scratched his forehead.

“Determination?” somebody supplied innocently.

“Mika?” Juan Pablo called the blond driver.

“What?”

“I think the name suits him just fine…”

“Definitely!” Irvine clapped his hands. “Hey Mike, what do you think?”

But with an exasperated grunt, the German had already retreated back into the Ferrari garage.

*************

Michael met Mika and his dog at the end of the qualifying session. The German had taken the longest way back to his trailer hoping that the walk would offer him some quiet, when he’d noticed the Finn sitting on a bench. His bizarre-looking animal was nowhere to be seen… good, maybe Mika had simply gotten rid of the troublemaker…

With a disarming sense of timing, the dog bounced out of a bush with a tennis ball in his mouth, leaves and twigs clinging to his long fur.

“Bring it back here.”

The dog completely ignored Mika’s request and trotted toward his namesake, dropping the ball in the outstretched hand.

“ _EI!_ ” The Finn shook his head in disbelief. “Oh you stupid dog!” 

“What’s wrong?” Michael asked him as he stepped closer, handing the other man the animal’s toy.

Mika opened his mouth to explain, but he started to chuckle instead.

“What’s so funny?” the German grumbled, knowing that he was the reason for that sudden burst of hilarity.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just that… well, you fetched the ball at the first try. I wish I could train my other Michael this well.”

“EXCUSE ME??”

“Uh, I mean, he can’t learn anything… and I’d better shut up…”

“That would be a good idea.”

There was a short moment of silence.

“Hey! Congratulations for the pole!”

“Thanks, but I was very motivated.” Michael mercifully accepted the quick change of subject. “Your car was really fast today …”

“I love Silverstone… it’d be nice to win here.” But the Finn waved a hand in the air, obviously dismissing the possibility.

Michael nodded but didn’t reply. He knew how his rival felt; his first two years at Ferrari had been a frustrating hell of mechanical failures and gross tactical mistakes. But he also knew that every word of encouragement he might say would inevitably sound trite. 

“I was going to eat out. Why don’t you come with me?” he asked instead.

“Why not.” The Finn shrugged and rose to his feet, absently snapping the leash on the dog’s collar. Michael… oh God, he’d totally forgotten what the animal could do! And suddenly, the very idea of bringing his aggravating dog in a crowded place sounded appalling. Why should he push his already scarce good luck? He would only offer the animal an extra occasion to get into trouble.

As if he’d read his mind, the German smiled and patted Mika on the back.

“Don’t worry,” he stated. “He’ll behave.” 

“I don’t know… it’s just that I have this bad feeling.”

“Will you relax?? He’s a dog… not a tornado!”

But what was Dog Michael doing during this dialogue? What was he thinking as he nervously paced back and forth? Being a lively dog by nature, he considered immobility a form of cruelty devised by those weird two-legged creatures with the specific intent to torture him. Heaving a frustrated canine sigh, the animal gave the leash another experimental tug. Nothing. His human wasn’t even looking at him! Michael grumbled and tried a sudden change of strategy. He turned toward his human’s friend and shot him his best pleading look. No, it didn’t work either. It looked like both men were determined to ignore him! The dog resumed his pacing, but this time he didn’t just walk back and forth in a straight line. More and more frustrated, the animal circled around Michael and returned between the two drivers, then he repeated the manoeuvre trotting behind Mika’s legs, crossing the leash in a dangerous knot. His intentions weren’t bad, no well-principled dog would voluntarily hurt his master… he just needed to stretch his legs! 

Then, all of a sudden, something else caught his complete attention: the thick bushes on his left parted with a rustle of leaves and a little head popped out. A hare, how interesting! Dog Michael let out a battle cry and charged at the enemy. Probably nothing would have happened if the other Michael hadn’t chosen that specific moment to free a foot from the tangled leash. The abrupt yank threw him off balance with the result of sending him toppling. It was by instinct that he clung to Mika, but the Finn couldn’t hold him up when he was facing exactly the same problem. Next thing he knew, Mika was lying on the ground, the German’s body resting on his.

“MICHAEL!” they yelled at the same time.

“What were you saying about my dog?” Mika inquired with a smirk.

“Can I kill him? It’s the second time in a few hours that he manages to deck me.”

“We’re just lucky that nobody is around to witness the scene… else how would you explain this?” 

“I could say that you’re my lover!”

“Yeah, right! Why won’t you simply explain how the dog knocked us down?”

“Because it would be a lot more embarrassing, don’t you think?”

“Yeah… we’d better stick to the lover thing.” 

They looked into each other’s eyes and burst out laughing. 

“Listen, do you like pasta?” Michael asked.

“Yeah”

“Good! Let’s go!” the German exclaimed as he climbed to his feet, grasping Mika’s hand to help him up.

“Where?”

“To my trailer. I’ll cook!”

“I don’t think…”

“Mika, it’s just pasta… I won’t,” Michael smiled and gently removed a twig from the Finn’s hair, “poison you.”

“Oh… in that case, I suppose it’s okay.”

Dog Michael was carefully studying them. AHA! He could definitely see sparks! And, he thought (his heart bursting with rightful pride), it’s me they should thank! Now, he was familiar enough with human psychology to know that without his help nothing would happen… so, he would have to play matchmaker! He let himself be led away from the hare … a whole new challenge would start pretty soon and he had a feeling that it would prove way more interesting!


	3. How to kiss a polar bear

A vicious wind howled outside the window. The night was sombre and cold, dark clouds covering the sky like a rug. The latest weather report forecast a rainstorm that would probably turn the meadows around Silverstone into a swamp long before the race. A race that, under the circumstances, didn’t sound promising and that would certainly require a new set-up for the car and an additional load of work for the whole team.

Mika sighed and closed the book he was reading, absently tossing it aside. Then he raised his head and frowned, realizing that he could no longer see the tip of the dog’s tail. Mick had been sleeping soundly in front of the door, sprawled like a bearskin rug, and not even the howling wind had seemed to bother him. 

“Stupid dog?” 

Don’t tell me that I forgot to shut the door!

“Michael, where are you?” he tried again as he hoisted himself up and trudged toward the entrance. 

Yes, the door was actually ajar. The dog must have sneaked out and he hadn’t noticed it because he was too engrossed in his book. 

“Mick!” he called out as he stepped onto the threshold. 

No answer.

“It’s cold. And it’s going to rain soon!” the Finn complained. “I’ll be damned if I go and look for him in this kind of weather…” 

He had no moral obligation whatsoever to leave his trailer and catch pneumonia for an animal that was probably just hiding somewhere because he was afraid of the storm. Or that, maybe, might have found another master... oh, the wishful thinking! The Finn shook his head with a sigh, sure he had no moral obligation, BUT he would undoubtedly feel guilty if he didn’t make at least an attempt to locate the annoying pest. Okay, just a walk around here, he told himself as he locked the trailer door, no need to take an umbrella. 

He’d almost gotten to the paddock entrance when the first raindrop splashed on his hand, immediately followed by a second and a third. Mika looked up and silently begged for mercy.

Please, just give me five minutes to get back to the motorhome… PLEASE!

But the surly sky was either very mischievous or just plain deaf and the drizzle immediately turned into a raging storm. 

The Finn took a step forward before he realized that he would get soaked long before he could reach the safety of his trailer. Maybe it would be wiser to take cover under the trees… the thick foliage would block out most of the rain, keeping him from getting too wet while he waited for the storm to subside. It worked for the first five minutes but eventually the water started to seep through the branches, dripping on him and inexorably drenching his hair and clothes. Another ten minutes and he was chilled to the bone, shivering so badly that it looked as if he was convulsing. 

Mika shook his head. Dog Michael would have to fend for himself because, right there, he felt way too miserable to care about another living being. Hell, he would willingly trade one of his world champion titles for a cup of hot cocoa. Then he would crawl in his bed, snuggle under a couple of blankets and sleep like a log for an entire week. And he would even bar the door so that nobody could bother him! 

Smiling at this last thought, the Finn stepped out in the rain and started the walk back to his motorhome. He’d almost reached his destination when something caught his attention. The black silhouette of the Ferrari Cavallino stood out on the side of Schumacher’s blazing red trailer. As Mika circled the motorhome, a disconcerting thought popped into his muddled brain. He couldn’t be in there, could he? But then… it was his dog he was thinking about. The same dog that had literally crept into his life, pushed him under a shower, tangled a leash around his feet, stolen Bernie’s breakfast…

He came in view of the stairs, but climbing the few steps that separated him from the door felt like a titanic effort he wasn’t sure he wanted to undertake. What if he was wrong? No… he’d better head back to his trailer without making a fool of himself! And then, Mika mused, even if the dog was in there, it was just an additional reason to slink away before anyone would notice him standing in the rain. A few hours with the most annoying animal on earth and Schumacher would simply go crazy!

Unfortunately, things didn’t work that way and the Finn knew it. With a sigh, Mika started to climb the stairs. He’d set foot on the third step when a piercing wail exploded inside the motorhome, followed by the frantic sound of nails scratching the door. Yep, Dog Michael was close! All of a sudden the door burst open, so violently that it slammed against the banister (missing Mika by a couple of inches) and the Finn literally came face to face with a fuming Michael Schumacher.

“Listen, stupid dog!” the German thundered, glowering at the animal. “Would you just make up your… OH GOD!”

Michael turned and gasped. There was a ghost standing in front of him! Although… on second thoughts, he didn’t know that spirits could actually get soaked or that they manifested themselves wearing a McLaren t-shirt and looking very much like Mika Häkkinen.

“Mika?” the German inquired somewhat tentatively as he stretched out a hand to touch the shivering Finn on the arm. Yep, definitely real. “Give me a heart attack, will you? What the hell are you doing outside my trailer?”

“I’m getting wet.”

“Obviously,” Michael grumbled. “Oh, were you looking for your… dog?”

The Finn nodded wearily and closed his eyes for a moment. Damn, he felt so weary that he could probably fell asleep on his feet right in front of the mighty Schumacher!

“Hey!” Michael snapped his fingers to get the blond driver’s attention. “Hey, are you feeling all right?”

“I’m just tired. And a bit cold...”

The German shifted his hand from Mika’s arm to the Finn’s face and gasped. “A bit cold? Shit! You’re borderline hypothermic!”

“No… it’s okay,” the Finn weakly batted the hand away.

“It’s okay if you’re a reindeer or a polar bear!” Michael shot back. “Come inside, NOW!”

Mika only glared at him.

“Listen, Flying Finn… get a move on because I have no intention of carrying you in my arms!” Michael urged as he drummed his fingers on the doorframe. “And you’d better take those shoes off before you get in my trailer…” 

“You’re so bossy.” Mika grumbled as he reluctantly kicked a shoe away.

“Yeah, yeah… so I have been told.”

“I should simply grab that pest by the tail and drag him with me.”

“Be my guest.”

Dog Michael stared at his master, his long fluffy tail thumping on the floor. Then he turned and padded toward the couch, sprawling in front of it with a sigh.

“Oh great.”

The German simply grinned. “Listen, instead of dripping all over my floor, why don’t you go take a hot shower?” he asked as he gently propelled Mika toward the bathroom. “Do you think you can manage it without falling and smashing your head open?”

How could anyone put so many words in a single sentence?

The Finn blinked a couple of times, then eventually nodded his agreement.

“Good… I’ll get you some dry clothes.”

*************

“Hey polar bear… feeling better, yes?” 

“Defrosting nicely, thank you.”

“Here.” The German handed him a glass. “Drink. It’ll help.”

Mika gave the amber liquid a questioning stare, then he carefully sniffed it.

“Are you always so mistrustful?” Michael snatched the glass back and took a sip. “See. I’m still alive!” he said as he handed the glass back to Mika. “Now, gulp it down…”

Very slowly, Mika did as he was told. 

“Shit!” he croaked feebly and immediately started to cough. “What’s this thing? Gasoline?”

“After all the champagne you drank in your career, don’t tell me you can’t even stand a glass of whisky…”

“Sorry.” The Finn shook his head with a grimace.

“It’s okay… just sit down before you pass out,” Michael groused as he steered the worn-out Mika towards the couch. “The last thing I need tonight is an exciting trip to the hospital.” 

Dog Michael literally leapt at the new opportunity. Taking advantage of the cramped space, the animal took a short run and gave Mika a push, just enough to send him pitching forward, directly into the German’s arms. The two men fell on the couch in a tangled heap.

YES! YES! TEN THOUSAND TIMES YES! The animal cheered.

“I can’t believe it,” Mika mumbled. “He did it again.”

“Must be his favourite pastime” The German glowered at the animal until he cowered under the table. “Your dog is dangerous…. I hope you realize that”

“He’s just…” Mika yawned, “very lively.” 

“Oh, just lively? Like today, when he smelled the pasta and stuck his head inside the pan?”

“He was hungry,” the Finn chuckled, thinking about his dog wearing a huge mass of spaghetti on his head and pretending that nothing had happened. “If he’s so dangerous, then why did you kidnap him?”

“Excuse me? And why would I do such a foolish thing? If anything, your mongrel is the one to blame here! Just in case you haven’t noticed,” the German added with a smirk, “he’s a master at opening doors all by himself!”

“You mean that he let himself into your trailer?”

“Yes… I was just waiting for the storm to subside before I rid myself of him…” 

“You never would have done that…” 

“Of course I wouldn’t have! I was going to take him back to you, only I didn’t…” Michael turned his head and realized that there was no point in finishing the sentence since the Finn had already dozed off. 

“Hey!” The German gently nudged his guest. “Wake up!”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Mika mumbled.

“You were.”

“I wasn’t”

“You definitely were…”

“Okay, I should probably get going then...”

Oh no! You WON’T! The animal thought. And before his thick and stubborn master could carry out his plan, the dog placed his head on Mika’s knees.

“Mick, no… Michael, tell him to move…”

The German eyed the animal suspiciously. “Your funny dog is up to something,” he stated.

“Oh… he’s a resourceful animal, you know?” Mika yawned again. “I’ll probably have to sleep here.” 

“So it seems.”

“Is that a problem for you?”

As God is my witness, say yes and I’ll bite your calf, the dog vowed. 

“No. No problem.”

“Good,” Mika whispered as he turned his head and rested his forehead on Michael’s shoulder.

“Are you comfortable?” 

Mika snuggled closer, burrowing his cheek in the crook of the German’s neck then he muttered “Very much, yes..”

“You know,” the German said with a smile, “Paparazzi would pay a lot of money for a picture of this moment.” 

“Probably.”

The German stretched out an arm and snatched the quilt resting on the back of the couch and wrapped it around Mika’s body.

“You may as well get warm…” Schumacher mumbled.

When he didn’t get an answer he draped an arm around the Finn’s shoulders and drifted off to sleep. 

*******************

Michael woke to the sound of a loud string of expletives just outside his trailer’s main window. 

“What was that?” a sleepy Mika Häkkinen inquired.

“You’re awake.”

“I think so.”

“Good morning, then,” Michael said.

“Morning,” Mika mumbled and stretched lazily.

“Did you sleep well?”

“As a matter of fact yes, thank you… at least until your ex-team-mate didn’t go berserk outside your trailer,” the Finn chuckled softly. Only then he noticed that he was still nestled against Michael’s side. “Oh… I can move if you feel uncomfortable.” 

“No, it’s okay.”

“Really?”

“Really.” 

“So, you don’t mind…”

“I don’t mind,” the German confirmed.

“Oh… okay.”

Silence.

“Mika?” Michael eventually felt the need to enquire.

“What?”

“Just checking. I was afraid you’d gone back to sleep.”

Another long moment of silence. Outside, Eddie Irvine had finally stopped venting his anger on his target and the street was back to the early morning quiet. He could hear a few people passing by the trailer, their voices so low that they were nothing but a faint buzz. A lonely bird chirped amidst the trees…

“Mika?” 

“Uh?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing you’d want to know.”

“I could surprise you…”

For the first time since the odd dialogue had started, Mika turned his head to look Michael in the eyes and frowned. “Let it drop,” he muttered, eventually averting his eyes from that piercing glance. 

“Mika?” Michael asked for the third time.

This time, the Finn didn’t answer and kept staring at his feet. Maybe he should say something silly just to ease the tension. For example, something about his dog resting on the floor, so wrapped up in the quilt that only the tip of his nose and a paw were visible. He looked like a giant spring roll. 

Another endless minute ticked away.

“Would you freak out if I kissed you?” Michael asked all of a sudden.

It was so unexpected, so out of the blue that Mika almost didn’t get the meaning of the question.

“Huh?”

“I said, would you freak out if I kissed you?”

“You want to kiss me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Michael nodded.

“Why? I mean, this is crazy …”

“I’m aware of this.” The German completely agreed with him.

"Okay." Mika looked shocked for a moment, then laughed. "Then I suppose you can kiss me.”

“And you won’t freak out?”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Because if you are…”

“Who’s panicking now?”

“Sorry.” Michael swallowed, nervously fidgeting with his shirt. 

For another long moment they simply sat there facing each other, both of them uncertain of what to do next. Then Michael finally realised that he was supposed to make the first move since he’d been the one suggesting the whole kiss thing. Okay, it’s now or never. He steeled himself as he drew closer, his eyes once again asking for permission. Häkkinen nodded slightly, understanding the reluctance, and seeing the nod, Michael lightly pressed his lips against Mika's.

The kiss in itself was nothing special, way too nervous and awkward to be considered even remotely good, but the German found himself completely taken aback by the conflicting emotions running through him. He had thought that it would be funny, but not much more than that… and he was wrong. So absolutely wrong! It was confusing, beautiful, downright terrifying, but not funny at all! 

It was a mess…

Michael slowly pulled back, staring at the man in front of him, a hand still resting on Mika’s cheek. Now, if only the Finn would say something instead of just sitting there looking as inscrutable as the stone sphinx of Giza!

“I…” Michael stammered when the silence had grown too oppressive. “I really think we should talk about this.”

“Yes,” Mika nodded. “We should.”

“Yeah…” The German repeated as he let the hand slide from Mika’s face to the Finn’s wrist, his thumb absently toying with the silver bracelet.

Mika found that little gesture oddly reassuring and smiled, his gaze flickering from their hands to Michael’s face. It was probably just a misguided impression, but he could swear that the German was unwilling to break the contact with him right away. 

“So…” Michael tried again. Damn! What was he supposed to say? What were they supposed to do now?

“So…” Mika certainly wasn’t any closer to a solution. “Maybe I should just go…”

It sounded so reasonable that Michael had to nod. 

Mika nodded as well but he didn’t move. He sat there, staring at the door, knowing full well that the harsh reality would pounce on him like a hungry tiger as soon as he crossed the threshold. Reality meant acting in a rational manner once again and pretending that nothing had happened. He could do that… he would have to, because he honestly didn’t have much of a choice. Things would simply look different in daylight. And this was the reason why he just sat there on the couch, making no move to get up even if he had this nagging sensation at the back of his head. A little voice screaming that he was supposed to be somewhere else. But where, at - Mika glanced at the German’s watch - 8.30 on a Sunday morning?

Oh my…

“Oh my God!” he suddenly exclaimed. “Michael!”

“What?” The German frowned, taken aback by the sudden cry. “What’s wrong?”

“The warm-up,” Mika explained with a nervous chuckle. “The warm-up is in an hour!”

“Shit!” Michael yelped as the thought finally hit home.

“Okay.” The Finn took a deep, calming breath then jumped to his feet. “I am relaxed and everything’s fine.. Oh, who am I kidding? Ron is going to kill me this time!”

“Mika!” Michael called him, feeling more and more uneasy.

Where do we stand now?

“I’m late! Sorry…” The Finn turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. “I’ll see you later…”

“Good luck.”

“Yeah, you too.” Mika nodded and bolted out of the motorhome.

Three seconds and the door opened once again.

“I forgot the dog!” the Finn said with a weak smile. “Mick, let’s go! I could really use a scapegoat here…”

“Uh, Mika?” Michael suddenly noticed something.

“Yeah?”

“You know you’re leaving a Ferrari trailer wearing a Ferrari sweater, right?”

The Finn looked down, his eyes studying the garment with the rampant Cavallino on it. Very red and very Ferrari…

“Do you think Ron will fire me?”

“Well, if he does,” the German chuckled, “you can always apply for a job in my team.”

“Don’t tempt me, Michael,” Mika replied nonchalantly. “I might decide to follow your advice and then you’ll have to share your car with me…”


	4. It's raining cats and dogs

Michael Schumacher was a happy man. Okay, he didn’t win the race but he had never been closer to his fourth title. His heart had almost stopped when Jean Todt had radioed him from the pits to inform him that Coulthard had collided with a Jordan and that his McLaren was now parked in the gravel with a broken suspension. From there on, he’d taken it easy, knowing that he had the perfect occasion to increase his lead over the Scot. Besides, it had been nice to see Mika back on the podium as a winner. Oh, and speaking of the Finn…

“Hey, Mika!” 

Häkkinen completely ignored him. 

Michael shrugged and hastened to catch up with him. 

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” the blond driver mumbled, without even glancing up.

The German frowned, his hand frozen mid-air. He’d intended to slap Mika on the back, but one good look at the grave demeanour and he’d eventually decided against it. The race had gone well for both of them so why did the Finn look so upset? Okay, he had a fairly good idea of what could have caused that sudden change of attitude, but he refused to accept it.

“Is something wrong?”

Mika’s head shot up, wild grey-blue eyes staring at him in utter disbelief. The German was suddenly reminded of a skittish horse he’d seen when he was a kid, an unpredictable creature that could very easily lash out in fear or bolt at the first false move. And Michael really didn’t want to risk a metaphorical kick in the face! 

“Absolutely nothing,” Mika muttered through gritted teeth.

“Liar.”

“I was thinking.”

“About what?”

“About us, I mean… about the kiss,” the Finn hastened to rectify, feeling suddenly very stupid for using the word ‘us’.

“You worry too much sweetheart” Michael clumsily tried to turn the situation into a joke and failed miserably. Because as soon as the playful endearment left his mouth, he knew that his words would be misread. 

“You’re right.” 

“But you’re still upset.”

“Why did you kiss me?” Mika inquired, snapping a twig that reached over the path. 

“I don’t know. There was not a precise reason,” the German confessed with a shrug. It wasn’t a lie, he still didn’t know. “It just felt right.” 

God, how could someone be so silly? Michael might as well admit that it had been an amusing pastime. Some people would play chess and some others would mess up other people’s lives. But then again, Mika thought as he methodically stripped the leaves off the small twisted branch and trapped them in his hand, it’s not as if I offered much resistance! This partial admission of guilt was alarming and he hastened to banish it from his head before it could blossom into something dangerous.

“Look, forget I asked! In fact, forget the storm, my dog and the stupid kiss! It never happened, okay?”

Michael blinked owlishly. In spite of all his efforts, Mika Häkkinen remained a living mystery, an enigma that he didn’t expect to solve any time soon. It took him several long seconds before he realized that he was staring at an empty space because the Finn had already walked away.

“Now wait a minute!” Michael ran after him, grabbing the blond driver by the arm. “I won’t let you lay the entire blame on me only because you want to ease your conscience! Is this why you’re so mad at me? It’s easier, uh? Well, babe, you have your share of responsibilities… start asking yourself if you’re angrier about the kiss itself or because you liked it! And maybe then you can decide if you want to pretend that nothing happened or face the situation like a grown-up…” 

“Sorry,” the Finn mumbled, somewhat chastised. “I guess I’m just very confused.”

“So, what’s going to happen now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neither do I.”

“Maybe we should really pretend that nothing happened,” Mika suggested as he tossed the crushed leaves in the air like a handful of confetti.

“Or maybe we shouldn’t,” Schumacher said with a nervous chuckle.

“What do you want from me, Michael?” Mika heaved a sigh and turned to look at him.

“What do you mean?” the German inquired, genuinely baffled. 

“Is this some kind of game?”

“A game?”

“Yeah, a creative way of messing with my mind,” the Finn waved a hand in the air, “Because, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not your real opponent this year.”

“Are you implying that the kiss was part of a Ferrari strategy?”

Mika shrugged and started walking once again.

“Hey!” Michael exclaimed as he caught up with him. “According to your twisted line of reasoning, then I seduced the wrong McLaren driver.” 

Another shrug, this time followed by a smile.

“Gee, thanks but I believe that I’d rather let David win the championship!” 

The smile turned into a laugh.

“So, where do we go from here?” Mika eventually inquired.

“Well… we could go somewhere. Tonight.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Do you need a formal invitation card?”

“Well, it would be nice. The card I mean…”

“Ha ha, very funny!” the German grinned. “By the way, where’s your weird dog?”

“My dog isn’t weird” Mika protested.

“Yeah, right…” 

“I saw him from the podium. David must have taken him for a walk.”

“Then he has probably lost him already! No offence, but are you crazy? I wouldn’t leave him my only pot-plant… and it’s already dying.”

The Finn chuckled.  
“Yeah, I’ve seen the poor thing… when was the last time you watered it?”

“Let me think, it was… I was in Monte Carlo for the GP, so...”

“But it was more than a month ago!”

“Yeah, well… I’ve been busy,” Michael grumbled, then he suddenly pointed at two people heading towards them. “Looks like your boss and your team-mate are looking for you!”

David was listening to Ron, obviously not paying any attention to the dog bouncing around them. He’d freed the animal from the leash and Mick could now roam everywhere he wanted. Every so often, he would stop to growl at a rustling bush or to sniff a rock and then he would resume his trek. But Michael immediately noticed how the dog kept his distance from Coulthard. Almost as if he was afraid of him. Wait a minute, maybe not of him…

“Is David carrying a kitten?” Mika asked in a low voice, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Hey, where did you get that cat?” the German immediately inquired. 

“He found me… or rather, he found Michael.”

“What do you mean?” Mika frowned. “It certainly didn’t fell from the sky…”

“Well, no , not from the sky… just from a tree. Directly onto your dog’s back!”

The Finn looked down at the animal, almost as if he could confirm David’s story and what he saw surprised him. Two sets of deep scratches crossed Dog Michael’s muzzle, drawing an almost perfect red X just above the animal’s nose. 

“Oh, my poor _Maikkeli_ …” Mika crooned as he crouched beside the animal, carefully inspecting the injury. “What happened to you?” 

The dog didn’t answer but he raised two sorrowful eyes, shooting Mika his best I’m-so-glad-that-you-came-to-rescue-me-from-this-despicable-company look.

“Mick was so furious that I thought he was going to tear the poor creature to pieces before I could do anything to stop him,” David explained as Ron Dennis stepped closer to the three drivers. “But, I kind of expected the furball here to scurry away, cats usually do that… 

He was supposed to run! He’s a CAT and stupid felines like him ALWAYS run for their lives in front of a mighty DOG! Dog Michael glared at the little spoilsport.

“Well, this one either didn’t know about this rule or he simply wanted to quarrel! Mick was quite surprised and when he tried to sniff at him, this vicious monster literally jumped at his throat! It took me ten bloody minutes to drag your dog out of the bushes!”

“What a brave animal…” Michael snickered.

Mika only petted the animal’s head in a fond gesture, pointedly ignoring the sarcastic comment.

“And now, what will you do with the bonsai tiger?” the German jerked his head toward the kitten desperately trying to wriggle out of the Scot’s arms.

“Nothing. It’s a gift for my favourite team-mate.”

“Wait a minute… why don’t you keep him?” said team-mate inquired.

“Because I’m allergic to,” David pretended to sneeze, “cats. So, here.” And he quickly passed the cat to Mika.

Dog Michael wailed and ran for cover behind Ron Dennis’ legs. 

Mika studied the slanted blue eyes staring at him and a sudden smile lit up his face. 

“Michael?”

“Yes?”

“Here.” And turning toward the German, he gently dropped the little bundle in his arms.

“What…” Michael didn’t react immediately, leaving the tiny kitten enough time to cling to his shirt. The cat let out a low hissing sound that was a clear sign of his displeasure for the rough handling, but it eventually settled down. “Oh no no no!”

“Congratulations!” Mika cheered. “You’ve just adopted a cat!”

“No way! I don’t want it!” 

“Of course you do!”

“No, I don’t!”

“You can’t possibly leave him here!” the Finn stated.

“So why don’t you just keep him, uh??”

“I could do that, but you’ll have to take Mick with you. Because it looks quite obvious that my dog,” Mika cast a meaningful glance at the animal crouched behind Ron’s legs and trying his best to cast a magic spell that would turn him invisible, “could never live with such a bully.”

“Okay! Okay, I will keep him.”

“Good! Now you just have to think of a name…”

“Oh, that one’s easy.”

“And how… oh no! You WON’T!” Mika exclaimed when he noticed the way the German shifted his attention from him to the grey feline. “I forbid you!”

“Oh yes!” Michael said as he waved a finger in front of the kitten. “ABSOLUTELY yes. You know, Mika is the perfect name for a tyrannical animal like him.”

“But you can’t do that!” the Finn objected. 

“Sue me.”

“Look at the bright side…” David intervened before his team-mate could say another word.

“Is there one?” Mika snorted, definitely unconvinced.

“At least it’s a good-looking cat, not like that… thing that we named after him!”

“Hey!” Michael snarled.

“See, he even growls like his namesake!” the Scot added.

“David, let’s go.” Ron stopped him. “Before you get us involved in a diplomatic incident with the competition.”

They walked in perfect silence until they reached Mika’s motorhome, Dog Michael trotting beside his master, Cat Mika peacefully curled in the German’s arms.

“So, about tonight… it’s settled, then?”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Mika nodded as he fumbled with the key. As soon as the door opened, the dog bolted inside the trailer without a backward glance. His day had been eventful enough and he certainly didn’t need another ‘exchange of views’ with that hellish thing in a cat’s skin.

“I suppose I’ll see you later, then.”

“Uh-uh,” Mika answered absently as he looked behind the German.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Just looking for paparazzi…” the Finn explained as he ran a hand through his short hair.

“You don’t want them to see us together? You might be right… they will probably write that we’re plotting a conspiracy!”

“No, I don’t want them to see this…”

The Finn took a step forward and brushed a soft kiss on Michael’s lips. 

“Bye Michael,” he whispered with a smile as he disappeared into the trailer. 

The door closed, leaving an astonished triple world champion standing on the threshold, the kitten still in his arms.

 

*THE END*


End file.
